No Mercy
by NeverThink
Summary: A sequel to Bulletproof Heart set 20 years later. Veronica & MacCready had a child, Katy, but she is growing wary of their island fortress. After a revelation about her father's past shakes her world, she runs away - and into danger. OCxOC, OCxMacCready, Rated M for violence and sexual content.
1. A Revelation

**Hi everyone! My first fic, Bulletproof Heart, seemed to gain quite a bit of attention, and I had some more ideas up my sleeve, so I've decided to write a sequel. Reviews are welcome but not essential - I've mostly writing for myself as it relieves my anxiety. This fic will have four narrators, each chapter will have the chosen narrator labelled in bold before it starts. It is also set 20 years after the events of the first fic - Veronica MacCready have had a child of their own, named Katy. Happy reading!**

* * *

 **KATY**

It was quiet, except for the lapping of the salty waves and the incessant squawking from radioactive seagulls as they spiralled the sky above me. What had been a bright afternoon was slowly seeping into a yellowish twilight, a chill breeze whipping my golden hair across my face. I knew that I didn't have long before they returned home and I really didn't want to be here when they got back, but the view was just too good to pull myself away from. From this perch above the house, where dad would sometimes sit on evenings, I could see all the way to the shore in the distance. I longed to be on that coast, far away from here, no longer imprisoned on this tiny island. Doomed to look after my big/little brother for all eternity.

I didn't hate Shaun. In fact, when we were younger, I loved him like he was a real brother. We used to play games like tag, or go swimming in the shallows. As time wore on, however, I grew out of him – literally. I became a teenager whilst he still rotted away at ten, and things became strained between us. I noticed how my parents would fawn over him all the time, every conversation was about his safety. They were worried that someone would come here and kill him for what he is; I understood, but still… I started to feel like a spare part. On top of that, I realised just how small this island really was as I got older. There were a few shipping containers in one corner that had been fun to explore for a while, but now they were empty and boring. A small hut stood in the middle on top of a hill, though it contained nothing besides pre-war technology that had since decayed. Then then was our house and the farm.

The rest of this place was just… blank.

In the corner of my eye, I caught movement from the Castle and my heart skipped a beat – they were boarding now. I scrambled to gather my empty Nuka-Cola bottle and hastily climbed down from the defence post, slipping on the last couple of steps so that I skidded down to the ground with a harsh thud. My exposed thigh flared with pain and I cursed myself for wearing denim cut-offs before hauling myself up and limping angrily back to my room.

Shaun was in there, already sleeping. I didn't understand why a synth needed to sleep, though I guessed that it made them appear more realistic. I rolled my eyes at his soft, fake snores and winced as I crawled onto my own bunk, noticing the darkening skin of my injured leg. That was going to bruise up nicely.

After a while, I heard the familiar creak of the front door, followed by whispers and giggles. My parents were so in love, it was sickening. They were always _kissing_ and holding hands. I pretended to gag and pulled the thin sheet above my head. Footsteps softly padded towards my door and I scrunched up my eyes defiantly, ready for the inevitable.

"Katy?" It was mom. I stayed as still as possible, trying to focus on making my breathing appear steady even though my heart was racing beneath my chest. I couldn't handle having a conversation with her right now, as much as I loved her. Still, she mustn't have believed my feigned sleep, as she made her way over to my bed and sat on the edge regardless. "Katy… I know you're awake. We saw you on the roof."

I sighed dramatically and pushed the sheet from my face; all of the anger I'd built up while she was gone suddenly dissolved when I saw my mothers calming features. Above all else, she was a beautiful woman. I smiled a little as she stroked the hair from my eyes. "Hey, mom."

"Is everything alright?" She asked, concern etched on her face.

"I… yeah." I shook my head. "No… I just get lonely here. I'm bored of this island. I want to see more."

"I know, baby." She nodded and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry that we're away so often. Preston's really got his hands full with protecting thirty separate settlements, and the Brotherhood have been breathing down our necks about the synth issue again."

I sat up in my bed. "Huh? I thought that they would leave us alone? Isn't it the Railroad that are helping synths?"

"Yes and no…" Mom sighed. "We're the Minutemen, Katy. We help anyone who needs it, regardless of their biology. In fact, you know what? Why don't you and Shaun come with us to the Castle tomorrow so we can show you around?"

"Really?" I couldn't help the excitement that poured out of me. I was going to get off of this island!

"Yeah, your dad can give you the grand tour whilst I deal with boring political stuff," She chuckled before standing up. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know mom… I love you too."

#####

The next morning, I threw myself out of bed and grabbed the nearest set of clothes I could reach – the shorts I wore yesterday and a burnt orange shirt. This top was baggy on me and I liked the comfort, though it was very nearly longer than my cut-offs. As I ran to my mirror to see if it looked dumb, my thigh ached and I was reminded of my fall yesterday. The skin was purple and swollen. I brushed my hair quickly, pulling the waist-length tresses into a side pony and securing it with an elastic band. Shaun began to stir behind me, so I poked him in the side and pulled the sheet from his body.

"Katy!" He moaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Get up!" I grinned at him. "Mom and dad are taking us to the Castle today."

"For real?" He matched my smile and bounced up from his bed.

"Seriously," I laughed. "So, hurry up and get changed. And don't embarrass me."

#####

The Castle was not as impressive as I would've hoped. In fact, it wasn't even a castle! It was more like one big courtyard with some small rooms located within the walls. In the centre stood a huge radio tower surrounded by several generators, and a moustached man wearing a Minuteman hat sat next to it. All around, people bustled about their business. The 'tour' took all of ten minutes. Dad stood proudly by the entrance, surveying the area with one hand on his hip whilst the other leaned against the brickwork.

"It used to look way worse than this," He reassured me as he noticed my expression. "Trust me. The first time I came here, this wasn't even a wall, it was just a pile of rubble. They've done a really good job fixing her up."

"MacCready!" A voice rang out from the other end of the courtyard and I looked up in confusion. A small woman was beckoning towards us, so I frowned up at dad. He waved at her and scrunched his nose up at me.

"Do you think you can stay here for a bit?" His face was sympathetic but his voice was urgent.

I nodded solemnly as he took off. This was not the experience I had been hoping for, though I was curious as to why my dad was referred to by our family name. Mom always called him Robert. I let the thought filter out of my mind as I kicked the dirt beneath my feet, suddenly wishing that I was back on the island. This place wasn't all that. And everyone ignored me. Shaun had been greeted with hushed whispers before being dragged inside the Castle. Preston had berated my mom for bringing him here, so she'd gestured to me and told him that they didn't have a sitter. Preston barely looked at me before ushering my mom away. No one spared me a glance.

Which meant it was very easy to walk outside of the Castle walls. I took a quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention, before jogging out towards a beat-up building just outside of the grounds. I looked back at the entrance, breathlessly, but no one seemed to have noticed me leave. The world was quiet again, just like on my island, only this time there was so much more to explore. Just ahead of me there was a cluster of tall structures, mostly sad in appearance and definitely in need of a fresh coat of paint. I knew that walking that way would lead into the city, the heart of the Commonwealth, where all sorts of dangers lurked. I had to stay close to the Castle, where I would be safe. With that in mind, I decided just to check out the building I'd ran to. It looked like it used to be a shop of some kind – there were magazines and comics just like dad brought me home sometimes, and an old cash register. I popped it open but there was nothing inside. A few empty shelves cluttered the blue and white tiled floor. There was nothing much of interest so I walked around the other side of the building to get a better look at the city.

As I stepped forward I heard a clicking noise nearby; I froze and turned to see an older man in khaki green clothing leaning against the outside wall, pointing a small pistol at my head. His head was balding, the few dark strands he had plastering the sides of his large skull. His skin was littered with craters and spots, a nasty looking scar zig-zagging down his right arm. The chest of his armour heralded a skull. I instinctively put my hands up, but he just laughed and lowered his gun.

"Sorry, kid," He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his nose. I relaxed a little bit. "You lost?"

"No…" I gave the castle a side-glance and he noticed.

"You're with the Minutemen?" He frowned. "That's just lucky, I'm here to do some trading. What's your name?"

Mom had mentioned that traders came here often which is what helped keep the Minutemen stocked with ammo and materials for making armour. This guy certainly dressed like a soldier and he seemed to know where he was. Still, I didn't know him, so I couldn't give too much away. I thought about how that lady had addressed my dad earlier and an idea struck me. "MacCready."

The man seemed startled at first, but he regained his composure relatively quickly. I suddenly had a sinking feeling that I shouldn't have said that. He rounded on me, offering a cigarette. I shook my head rapidly and began to play with my hair, unsure of how to get out of this situation. Mom did that when she was nervous, twiddled with things. Usually it was her holster strap, though. I thought about shouting for help, but he had a gun. He could shoot me a lot faster than anyone could run here. He took the cigarette he'd offered me and lit it with a match before inhaling deeply. My dad smoked so I wasn't unfamiliar with the smell.

"MacCready," The man exhaled his smoke, coughing. "I knew a guy who went by that name. Brown hair, goatee… wore a hat?"

"I don't know anyone by that description." I answered truthfully. My dad didn't have a hat and he had a full beard on his face.

"Sure, sure…" He sniffed again. "Still, though. This was twenty years ago. How old are you?"

Okay, now I was definitely uncomfortable. I shifted on my feet and shook my head. "I really should get back."

"Sorry to offend you, I know it's not right to ask a lady her age." He shrugged. "I just feel like you've got a really familiar face, you know? And then you went and said that name… he's an old friend of mine, and I've been tracking him down for years."

I didn't say anything, just stood there dumbly. What was I supposed to say to that? All the time I'd been alive, I'd never known my dad to have any friends other than Piper, Ivy and Preston. Though, this guy had already mentioned that it had been 20 years since he last saw him. Maybe he was telling the truth?

He took another long hit of his cigarette before nodding at me. "He's your father, isn't he? I saw you in that building. You've got his smirk, his cocky attitude. I just wanna meet with him. Can't you ask him to come out here later tonight?"

"I need proof that you know him," I scowled, crossing my arms. "A name and an outdated description aren't tangible enough. Who even are you?"

"Smart girl. I told you, I'm an old friend. Colleague, really. Here, listen to this, it'll tell you everything you need to know."

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a holotape. I took his gingerly, running my fingers over the label. It read 'Initiate #56'. The man stubbed his cigarette out against the brick wall before throwing it into the yellow grass.

"Just listen to the tape." He began to walk away from me, towards the city.

#####

The rest of the day flew by scarily fast. After my encounter with the strange man, I had scampered back to the Castle to find that nobody had noticed my disappearance – both reassuring and depressing at the same time. I'd then spent my afternoon throwing rocks into the sea on the small beach within Castle grounds until dad had found me and berated me for not staying put. Normally, I would have whined at him for treating me like a child, but I was just glad this was where he had found me. After that, we'd eaten a hearty meal of gourds and Yao Guai meat before setting sail back to our solitary confinement. Once back on the island, I had asked if I could go to the shipping containers for a while, but mom said I had to milk the Brahmin first seeing as though nothing had been done on the farm all day. Shaun helped me fetch the pails and as he sat besides me, stroking the two-headed animal, a thought came to my head.

"Hey, you knew were there when mom and dad blew up the Institute, right?" I asked as casually as I could.

Shaun frowned. "I was, kinda… I mean, I didn't see them do it, they made me leave with the injured Minutemen."

"But that's the first time you met dad, right?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "I just called him MacCready back then. It was… it's weird to talk about. My memories aren't real, remember? I don't like talking about the Institute."

I winced at his words, thinking about his synth past. Of course, he didn't know anything before that day, his mind had been completely erased and replaced with a new life. I couldn't imagine that happening to me. We sat in silence for a few minutes, continuing our work, before Shaun sighed and looked at me. "Why did you ask?"

"It's nothing," I shook my head, removing the filled pail from beneath the Brahmin. "I just wondered about what dad did before, you know. Why did you call him MacCready?"

"Everybody did," Shaun stood up and wiped his hands. "Even mom did, actually. It's kinda strange. He also seemed different, like, I remember seeing him at the Institute, holding a gun. Preston didn't like him back then, and I think it had something to do with the gun, because after dad put it away and said he wouldn't use it again, Preston became his friend."

"Dad with a gun?" My heart began to stammer. "I don't believe that."

"It's the one on the wall in the house. Just ask him yourself if you're so interested." Shaun shrugged and left the barn.

#####

After finishing my chores, I asked mom if I could borrow her Pip-Boy to play games on and headed out towards the shipping containers at the other side of the island. I entered a sickly green container and sat crossed-legged on the dusty ground, placing the Pip-Boy in front of me carefully. Did I really want to listen to this holotape? All I knew of dad's past was that he'd had a family before us. He'd told us that when he was very young, he'd married a girl called Lucy and had a son, but they had both died a long time ago. Mom had healed his heart again and me and Shaun were the lights of his life – we'd all heard the tale. But what else was there? Surely, he also had a job before the Minutemen? I knew that they were only reformed because of him and mom.

With a shaking hand, I warily inserted the tape into the Pip-Boy and pressed play. Loud static burst into my ears so I turned it down quickly, the white noise faded into a gravelled voice that I didn't recognise.

 _"…take the fucking caps, okay?"_

 _"You don't have to tell me."_ My dads voice crackled around the container and I held my breath in anticipation. _"Man, I need a smoke."_

 _"You can smoke when you've finished the job, MacCready."_

 _"Yeah, yeah. This is the target?"_

In the background, I could just about here the murmured cries of a woman. It sounded like she had something over her mouth.

 _"Sure is. She was caught in Gunner territory."_

 _"That's it?"_

 _"That not enough for you? If you wanna be a Gunner, just shoot her in the fucking head and walk away. That is, if you're serious about this."_

 _"I'm serious. I want my 750 caps up front."_

 _"No deal."_

 _"Ah, come on, man! How about 350 now and 400 later?"_

There was a sighing noise and the sound of caps jingling. After a few shuffles, I heard the familiar sounds of my dad's chuckle. I could just imagine the smirk on his face.

 _"Fantastic…"_

 _"Get it over with, MacCready."_

 _"With pleasure."_

Without any warning, a gunshot rang out on the tape. I gasped in horror, recoiling from the Pip-Boy as though the bullet might burst through and hit me.

 _"Welcome to the crew."_

The holotape cut out. I stared at the floor, trying to control my breathing. I could feel a panic attack coming on. My dad had killed a woman on that tape. He'd shot her for money. All to join the Gunners? I'd heard Preston talk about them before but I didn't know much besides the fact that they sometimes attacked settlements. Was that man I'd met earlier a Gunner? My stomach lurched at the thought of my dad committing such horrible crimes. What was I supposed to do with this information? Should I tell my parents that I knew? Did mom even know?

It was a long time before I returned home, the moon already high in the sky as I walked into the shack. Mom and dad were huddled together on the couch; they both looked up at me as I entered, concern on their faces. I tried to stay huddled near the cabinet, the feeling of having something nearby to lean on helping the anxiety from completely taking over my body.

"You were out for a long time tonight, Katy." Mom pointed out. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I managed, my head still swimming.

Dad stood up and began to make his way over to me, reaching a hand out to put on my shoulder. I backed out of his way, causing him to raise his eyebrows. "Whoa, what's up?"

"Nothing," I stammered. I had an image in my head of him holding the sniper rifle that hung on the wall opposite me. Decorative, apparently. Now, I pictured him pointing the barrel at my face, smiling as he pulled the trigger. I couldn't shake it. "I'm just tired."

"I hope you're not lying," He crossed his arms.

"I am, really…" I looked at the floor. "Hey, um… can I ask you guys a weird question?"

Mom stood up too, exchanging a worried glance with dad. "Anything, sweetie."

I took a deep breath. "How did you guys meet? And not the usual story you tell, I know that you teamed up to defeat the Institute, but… how did that happen? You've never really said."

"Oh…" Mom frowned and looked at dad, who suddenly seemed pained. I knew it. Mom knew everything about his past, she had to. That look was everything I needed. "Oh, honey, it was such a long time ago, I don't remember everything."

"Are you sure?" I challenged. "Are you sure you didn't make a deal with him to help you kill a bunch of people?"

"Katy!" Dad raised his voice. He rarely raised his voice – that, and the idea I had of him in my head, made me jump.

"What makes you say that?" Mom was angry too, I could see it in her deep blue eyes.

"Dad got paid to kill people, didn't he?" Their anger only fuelled my courage. I threw the holotape at dad's feet. "You were a Gunner, weren't you? Mom needed the Institute dead, so she hired you to kill them all. You're both sick."

Dad was silent, staring down at the tape. Mom rounded on me, pointing her finger in my face. "Katy, you know nothing of the real world. You don't know what it's like out there."

"Because you never let me leave this island!" I shouted back. "How could you fall for a murderer? Or is that the sort of thing that turns you on?"

"Katy!" Mom was so mad, I thought she might slap me. "I can't believe you. Do you really think of your father that way?"

"What am I supposed to think?"

All the while, dad stared down at the tape. His shoulders were heaving but I couldn't see his face. He bent down to pick the tape up, and I saw moisture in his eyes. He looked up and locked eyes with me, a tear falling down his cheek. I'd never seen him cry before. "I'm sorry."

His reaction only made me more furious. I let out a frustrated growl and ran out of the door. I could hear mom shouting after me but I didn't want to listen. I pelted across the island as fast as my legs could take me, almost falling as I hit the sand dunes. I didn't stop running until I reached the shoreline where our boat was docked. I didn't think twice as I pulled the ropes from the docking post and pushed the boat out into the sea, jumping in as it bobbed on the waves. It was pitch black but the Castle was fully lit – I just had to keep rowing until I got over there. Mom was screeching my name now, pleading with me.

I pretended that I couldn't hear anything but the quiet still of the night as I rowed across the black water. As my arms pushed the oars, I thought about the woman on the tape. I could almost see her in front of me, frightened and alone. She had her hands tied behind her back and a rag in her mouth to stop her from talking. She could have a family, maybe some kids. She just wanted to go home. Dad didn't care about the fear in her eyes, he only wanted caps. He lifted his gun and-

The jolt from the boat hitting the dock shocked me out of my daydream and I hugged myself to shield against the chilly night air. What was I doing? I hadn't even given this a second thought, but now here I was, on the only boat my parents had, cutting them off from the rest of the world. I felt a pang of guilt which quickly resolved into a burst of fury; they had cut me off from the world my whole life, this was what they deserved. A taste of their own medicine. Was I acting childish? Probably. I couldn't make sense of my thoughts as they tumbled around my head. All I knew was that I had to get away from here, somewhere I could be alone. I couldn't go back to that place. I just couldn't.

My legs felt like jelly as I stepped out onto solid ground and I had to stop myself from falling as I paced up towards where the Castle stood. A couple of guards on the top wall spotted me and shouted down to the courtyard - I groaned and began to sprint out towards the start of the city, where their searchlights couldn't find me. Maybe I could go to Diamond City? That's where Piper and Ivy lived, and they seemed like the cool type of people who would let me crash for a bit. It was my only plausible option. Plus, if Nat was around, I could distract myself by helping out with the paper.

My only issue now was finding Diamond City. I'd been told that once you got close, there were tonnes of sign posts dotted around, but I knew that we were quite far away and I had no sense of where things were in the Commonwealth. I curse my parents for never letting me out, never giving me a real life. It was so eerie and quiet and nothing to be seen. Was it possible that they had overexaggerated the dangers of the world to keep me from exploring it? As I pondered my next move, meandering through the tower blocks, I felt a hand grab my own. I recoiled with a gasp, turning to see the man from this morning glowering down at me. The Gunner. Before I could react, he yanked me harshly so that I let out a pained yelp.

"I told you to bring MacCready!" He growled as I tried to pull away from him.

"Get off of me!" I cried, horror seeping into me as I realised there were more uniformed men appearing from the darkness. Suddenly, the tall buildings that surrounded me felt like they were closing in. What had I been thinking, coming out here alone?

"Wait, we can use this," One of them piped up, a severe grin spreading across his face. He lifted a pen knife. "Leave a bit of her behind, torture him that way."

"Good idea, Runt."

I began to scream and a hand was clamped over my mouth. Could the Minutemen hear this? Would they come to rescue me? I was too far away. Runt approached, a skinny, dirty-blonde man with dark eyes. They stared at me sickeningly as he tugged at my pony tail, ragging it close to him so that my neck clicked painfully. He then proceeded to saw his knife through my hair until it was a depressing chunk of red in his palm.

"We send this to MacCready, he knows we got his girl." He nodded at the island, then winked at me. "Thanks, kid. We were just gonna kill him, but you'll do nicely."

A woven bag was thrown over me. Just as I was about to try shouting for help, a heavy thud collided with the back of my head and I slipped into unconsciousness.


	2. Like Old Times

**VERONICA**

I screamed until my throat was raw, shouting her name over and over again, panic setting into my bones. I watched through blurred vision as the boat got further out the sea, further from the safety of our island. Everything had happened so fast, I didn't have time to fully process the situation. How had Katy found out about me hiring MacCready all those years ago? We had been so careful not to delve too deep into the more sinister details of our past. He didn't want to forever be known as 'that mercenary guy', he just wanted to protect our children from the harrowing truth of the world. It had taken long enough for him to even agree to join the Minutemen after Katy was born; his sniper rifle had not been fired in two decades, merely an emergency weapon to be used only on the occasion that someone reached us here. I'd learned to call him by his first name, which proved helpful for him. No one had called him Robert since Lucy. It calmed him.

The first few years of living here had been rough, much rougher than I had anticipated. I was pretty sure that MacCready was suffering from PTSD or depression, though there wasn't much I could offer him in this crazy world I found myself living in. I just gave him the support I could, and as Katy grew up, he'd found it easier to control his low moods. He never did anything drastic, just stared off into the distance or broke down into tears on evenings. I would sometimes wake up to hear him crying out in his sleep, plagued by nightmares. I was surprised that I held it together so well myself, considering the things I'd had to do. Seeing Nate being shot and having to kill my own son. Everything horrible in between.

I turned my attention back to the house now, concerned that MacCready hadn't followed me out here. I took one last glance at the horizon before jogging back to him. I could maybe send a radio signal to the Castle and ask them to grab Katy? I had time, it would take a while for her to reach the coast and there was nowhere for her to go when she got there – it was too dark to traverse the city. She'd never been anywhere but here, she would surely be too afraid.

I burst into the house, ready to grab the radio, when I saw MacCready. He was clutching the holotape Katy had thrown at him, gripping it so tight that his skin was turning white. His eyes were closed but his face was contorted with pain. I was intrigued by what was on that tape, but I knew I couldn't ever know. The memories were breaking him. I quietly padded across to him and put a hand on his, feeling him loosen his hold on the tape as he opened his eyes to look at me. They were dark, empty. I pulled him into an embrace and we stood there for a few minutes before I pulled away and removed the tape from him.

"We need to signal Preston," I said, heading over to the CBS radio I'd scavenged a few years ago. "Katy has taken our boat, she's gone to the mainland."

"She hates me." MacCready sighed. "This is my fault."

"Let's just concentrate on getting her back," I sighed. "And besides, I could've handled that better."

"Who gave her the tape?"

I scowled to myself as I tuned in the radio signal. "Some asshole who wanted to break up our family. And if I find whoever did it, I will break their fucking jaw."

#####

It took forty minutes, but Preston arrived on the island with a new boat and a severe look on his face. He was holding a strange package in his hand, which he passed to me as we met on the beach. It was some kind of dark grey cloth wrapped around something light and flexible. It flopped to one side in my hand.

"Our people spotted her as she docked," He explained, eyes flicking from mine to MacCreadys. "By the time word got to me, she'd already disappeared. I sent scouts out to find her and they got pretty far into South Boston when they found that."

He nodded at the package in my hand and sense of dread came over me. MacCready groaned and put his hands behind his head, turning away from me. I quickly unwrapped the package before crying out in shock – MacCready spun around to see what it was. Inside was a neat plait of red hair. Katy's hair. I sank to my knees, letting the hair fall limply to the ground, as MacCready took the wrapping from me. He growled and held up the material for me to see. It had a very familiar skull pattern on the back.

"Gunners." He spat. "Jesus Christ, it's the Gunners. The Gunners have taken Katy."

"What would they want with her?" I stammered.

MacCready shook his head. "It's my fault, they must know I'm here, they know she's my kid. Gunner's don't kidnap people, it's not their M.O."

Preston nodded in agreement. "He's right, I've seen plenty of Gunner attacks in the past and they usually just kill whatever is in their way. It's not like them to go out seeking anyone in particular though, so why look for you?"

I was still on the ground, hands squashed into the sand. My hearing had muted slightly, a sickness coursing through my gut, but I could faintly hear MacCready telling Preston about his time with the Gunners. He'd never told anyone but me. I knew this must've been hard on him, however, when I looked up, he had no fear or darkness in his eyes. His face was a mask of anger, determination and fire. I steadily rose to my feet and took a shaky breath. I couldn't let my grief take over again, not like those first few hours after Shaun was taken. I had to get my shit together and find the sons-of-bitches that had stolen my daughter.

"Veronica, get a bag." MacCready was seething, his jaw clenched. "We need to grab as much food, ammo and weaponry as we can carry. We're going after them."

#####

We left Shaun on the island with a few Minutemen to look after him whilst we were gone. Preston had offered to come with us, but I told him that the Castle needed him, so he stayed behind. The truth was, I knew that this would get messy and I didn't want him to see how vicious I could be. I had no idea where we would start our search, so we just began heading into the city, looking out for any clues that might determine where the Gunners had gone. MacCready seemed to be really good at it, pointing out boot prints and cigarette butts as we marched through South Boston. I always hated this part of the Commonwealth. It was littered with depressing playgrounds, swings rusted to standstills and slides fallen to the ground. We even passed a bench with a skeleton rotting on it, still there some 200 years after the bombs had fallen. With no real government, many of the dead had been left where they were, a twisted reminder of what had happened. Who would take on the job with burying them, after all? There were just too many. I shivered as we continued on, checking my Pip-Boy map for anything useful.

"Katy had left this in a container on the other side of the island." I commented, holding my wrist device up for him to see. "It must be how she listened to the tape. I thought she wanted to play games."

"Didn't think she would lie to us like that," MacCready sniffed. He was holding his sniper rifle for the first time in forever, and I could tell that he'd missed it a little. The way he carried himself whilst he wielded that thing – it was who he was. There was no denying it. "I've never seen such tenacity in her before. I hope she keeps that up whilst she's with those bas- err, those idiots."

"After all this time, I think you've earned a curse word or two." I laughed a little.

He chuckled too, a sound I was glad to hear. "A promise is a promise."

"So which way are we heading?"

"There was Gunner territory at South Boston Military Checkpoint." His smile faded. "It's just a small building so I can't see them keeping her there, but they might have passed through to pick up supplies."

"It's a start," I agreed. We continued on in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't unordinary for us to walk the streets of the Commonwealth together, as we had been sent to various settlements throughout the years in order to tend to their needs. The only difference was that we usually had a caravan with us carrying food, ammo, clothing – anything that our settlers could possibly want. The caravan guards did all the fighting if we came across anything hostile. MacCready and I had taken a backseat when it came to violence. What we were doing right now felt familiar, nostalgic. It felt like old times.

I wanted him to feel okay with holding that rifle. I wanted him to be able to accept who he was and who he had been, to understand that his roots were not a thing to be ashamed of, but that they helped carve him into the man he was today.

"I like this." I said quietly. I felt him glance at me as we continued on, so I took that as a que to keep talking. "It reminds me of a time twenty years ago. I was lost and scared and this guy told me he'd help me out, for a price. He showed me how to shoot straight, taught me not to trust everyone I came across. Pretty much saved my life on several occasions. And all of this was before he found out I was looking for my lost child. After that fact, he carried on saving my life and teaching me how to survive the Commonwealth – no caps required! His sharp shooting and even sharper wit did something to me. Do you know what that was?"

MacCready shook his head slowly but I could see he was smiling a little.

"It caused me to fall in love with him." I concluded my story. "I fell in love with his carefree, cocky attitude, his annoying little smirk – yes, like that one! And I also fell in love with the way he protected me with his accurate gunmanship."

He looked down at the rifle in his hands and sighed. "Sounds like a lucky guy."

"Yeah, you are." I stopped, grabbing his hand. "I don't care that you used to run with the Gunners and I don't care how many people you've shot with that thing. I fell for the mercenary I met and I still love you even now."

He grinned sheepishly at me, spinning the rifle around to his back before cupping my face in his hands. "I love you too."

We kissed, still as electric and powerful as the first time. A tingle rose up inside of me, eager to keep tasting him. My heart ached when we parted, my body ready for more. After all this time, I still wanted him so bad. I hoped he felt the same way about me now my hair had greyed and my skin had wrinkled. I was edging closer to fifty and the stress of living in this world had taken its toll on my physical appearance.

"Come on," He whispered, an amused expression on his face, like he knew what he was doing to me. "Katy needs us."

"You don't think they've hurt her, do you?"

He frowned, then shrugged. "They're using her as bait to get to me. If they were going to hurt her, they would've sent a finger, not her hair."

I sniffed, hugging myself. "That's a comfort."

#####

South Boston Military Checkpoint had been occupied by only three Gunners, all female and ready for a fight. Before we'd even entered the compound, they were firing at us. Their lasers bounced harmlessly off of my combat armour, making it easy to ignore and line up my own fatal shots. Now, two of them were dead on the floor in a pool of their own blood whilst the third sat against a wall, breathing shallow and eyes fluttering. MacCready was poking the barrel of his rifle into her neck as I crouched over her, casually eating a piece of Mirelurk meat from my stash of snacks. She spat in my face, a disgusting mixture of saliva and blood, so I slapped her hard across the cheek.

"We just wanted to talk, you guys opened fire." I reasoned. "I don't enjoy doing this, you know."

"Could've fooled me, you old bat." She winced at the pain from the open bullet wound in her stomach. I might've been old, but I still took these young soldiers down easily. It was all in the experience.

"I'll make this easy," I said. "There was a group of Gunners scouting out near the Castle. Where are they now?"

"I'm not telling you shit." She croaked. MacCready pushed the barrel painfully into her neck and she cried out for him to stop. "Okay, okay! I don't know where they are now but I know where they're heading."

"Where?"

"There's rumour of a large piece of untouched land ready for the taking. The boss wanted us to go over and convert it into Gunner territory. They say it's so big, anyone would thrive out there."

"I asked where, not what." I snarled.

"Nuka-World." The Gunner grimaced. "It's far, but there's an automated transit train that takes you right up to the front gate. West of the Commonwealth."

"I know where that is," I frowned. "Okay, you get to live. That's your reward for playing along."

MacCready lifted his gun and threw a stimpak at her. She scowled at the gift, shaking her head at us. "Why would you do that?"

"I told you I didn't want to do this," I gestured towards the bodies of her fallen comrades. "We're not like you. But if you start trying to kill us, we will kill you first."

MacCready smirked, winked and gave her a cringy finger-gun. "That's a promise."

As we left the checkpoint, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Nuka-World? What the hell is that?"

"A theme park, or it was." I laughed a little. "Nate took me on one of our dates. It was so fake and stupid, but it was fun. That damn song used to get in my head…"

"It's weird hearing you talk about life before the war," MacCready mused. "To think that you saw what this all looked like before it all fell to ruin. It's… remarkable."

"Yeah well, I can't imagine Nuka-World will look any different than it did before," I chuckled. "It was a shit-hole then and it will likely be a shit-hole now. Anyway, enough about that. We've got a long, long walk ahead of us."


	3. A Raider's Life For Me

**RAVEN**

"I don't know how you think this is going to work."

Another wasted day had gone by, the feelings of complete stillness and debilitating restlessness coexisting within my body like a confusing tornado that threatened to blow me away. How many months had we been here now, stuck in slow motion? Never to move forward? My fingers itched to pull a trigger. I missed being on the road. However, since we'd found Nuka-World, nothing had happened. Sure, we'd had to wrangle a few traders and 'convince' them to work for us before we could actually settle down, but this had never been the whole plan. Colter had promised expansion, progress, Goddamn _raiding_. He'd become too comfortable on that throne of his, and now his very own right-hand man, Gage, was sat before me, planning his downfall. To my left, Mason stood in thought. He was the leader of my gang, The Pack - he was listening to the conversation without contributing. This was a test for me.

"You doubt me?" Gage frowned, taking a bite of his mutfruit. The juices ran down his jaw and dripped onto the table. I scoffed and he raised his brow. "It's a decent plan. It's the only plan any of us have got. Colter has to go."

"Then why don't you just kill him?" I shrugged, blowing the blue hair from my face. I'd just had it freshly dyed that morning, giving me a strange off-colour hairline. I didn't care; it blended with the bright warpaint that covered my face.

Gage laughed at that. "Sure, sure. And then what? There'd be a power vacuum – I'm no leader. This place will fall to hell and you know it. Colter may be a dick, but he's the only thing that's keeping the raider gangs from destroying each other right now."

Mason chuckled to himself whilst scratching one of his dogs ears. He was a burly man with a shock of red hair, bulging muscles and a nose that had clearly been broken on more than one occasion. Like me, he had lines of colour painted across his cheeks and forehead, a sign of dominance. I was being trained up to take his place in the event that he was somehow taken down one day – though, I hadn't witnessed him lose a single fight in the eight years I'd followed him. I knew for a fact that he wanted to be the Overboss in Colter's place, but he would never say it out loud. It was just as Gage had said – the gangs were on thin enough ice with each other as it was. Removing the man that had brought them together was risky, but appointing someone from a gang to take his place would not go down well. It would cause accusations of favouritism, everyone would start rioting. We'd soon be ripping each other's throats out again, like the old days. I sighed.

"I get it, I know. I just think it's stupid to pick some random Vic to do it." I took a swig of whiskey and rolled my eyes. "But I guess we don't have much of a choice. Who else have you told?"

"Just you two so far," Gage scratched his neck thoughtfully. "I'm heading over to The Operators after this and then The Disciples last. Lord only knows they won't take this well."

"I'm okay with it," Mason piped up, waggling his finger. "Whoever is strong enough to get through the Gauntlet _and_ kill Colter should be strong enough to lead us."

"Thought you might say something like that," Gage smirked. "Okay, it's settled then. We start screening the Vics. The hard bastard that takes out Colter becomes the new Overboss."

I clicked my tongue. "This is assuming they even agree to it."

Gage leaned into me, a cold look in his eye. "That's the simple part. They don't agree with it, they die."

#####

Later that evening, I took a walk through the market and considered the repercussions of having a new Overboss. We'd not had a change in leadership ever. I felt dread at the idea of going back to how things used to be. I loved being a Raider but I hated having to deal with the other gangs. I'd lost far too many good comrades before; this fragile coalition was surely a good thing, no matter how tense it was. I smiled to myself, stopping short as I came across an ex-trader that was sweeping the concrete floors. She was muttering to herself, an angry scowl on her face. Something about her attitude stirred a fury in me, so I kicked the broom from her hands and grabbed her wrist forcefully.

"You got something to say?" I spat.

"No!" She wrestled her arm from my grip and began to rub it. "I just… you can't treat us this way."

"In what way are we treating you?" I was genuinely confused.

"Like we're slaves." She was becoming shy, unsure of herself. She was scared of me, as well she should be. "We had a good life here until you lot came along."

I gave a short laugh. "You think you're a slave? We feed you. Shelter you. Make sure you're safe. All we ask in exchange is that you clean up after us, and that makes you a slave? You're fucking lucky. You know what we used to do to snivelling roaches like you?"

She shook her head quickly, lip quivering. I sneered.

"We would string you up on chains and plunge a spike through your abdomen, just to see how long it would take for you to bleed out."

I left her to it then, memories of life before Nuka-World flooding through me. I prayed for the day I could go back to that, back to a life of caps and carnage. I hadn't always been this way. I hadn't always been so aggressive, so unrelenting. I had once been compassionate and kind – but kindness didn't get you anywhere in this life and being good only made you weak. I'd learnt that lesson the hard way. Now, I cared only for myself and my Pack. The world we lived in only rewarded the willing. Sure, my first kill had been difficult, but as the body count got higher, my conscious dwindled and I became dead inside. I joined The Pack to prove my strength, my worthiness, and they made me feel like I had an actual family.

I made my way back to our third of the park; it was a small section in the outer circle of town, where Colter had said the animals belonged. He said it as though he referred to our actual animals we kept in cages, but I knew he meant us. He'd never really liked our gang. He thought we were dumb brutes with nothing to show. We'd always been seen that way, which is why I think we wore bright colours, dyed our hair and painted our weapons. Our motto was 'if you don't stand out, you don't matter'. Like a venomous Radscorpion, I glowed with neon pinks and greens. My peacock blue hair screamed 'don't fuck with me', or at least that was the impression I tried to give. I was a poisonous creature, ready for battle. Don't get too close! I could never let anyone get too close.

I sighed for the hundredth time that day as I fed the gorillas. I loved our little zoo and had appointed myself their keeper, making sure they were fed and groomed as much as I could. It pained me that Mason kept them for entertainment purposes these days, rather than just protectors like they used to be. Besides his precious mutts, all of the animals in our captivity were pitted against each other in a sick fight. A lot of them died, which pained me every time. It was all I could do to patch up the survivors. When I finally took over The Pack, I would make sure these games were put to an end.

Once again considering leadership and the consequences that followed, my mind filtered back to Gage's plot. They were going to send out a radio signal tomorrow as bait for any potential Vics that might be walking near the Nuka World Transit centre out in the Commonwealth. We did this on a weekly basis anyway, just entertainment really. Sometimes it took weeks and weeks for someone to actually come through here, but when they did, it always ended in a bloody mess. The Gauntlet was impossible to get through without dying, and even if they got lucky enough, they then had to face Colter and his impenetrable power armour. No Vic had ever stood a chance.

This time was going to be different, though. With Gage rigging the next game, anything could happen.


	4. The Family Name

**KATY**

The balls of my feet screamed with a sharp pain every time I took a step forward and I was almost certain I could feel the unsettling squelch of blood between my toes. We'd been walking for days now, only stopping for the briefest of moments in order to stock up on supplies from various strongholds. By watching the sun rise and fall each day, I could tell that we were heading west, but our destination was still a mystery to me. A deep sadness swelled in the pit of my stomach that my parents hadn't yet come to rescue me, after all of the heroic deeds they had committed in the past. Perhaps they didn't actually care? From what I'd recently learned, it was as though they were both strangers to me anyway. Maybe now that I was out of the way, they could continue with their exciting alternate lives. I screwed my nose up in anger, letting it boil and bubble inside me.

I thought about where the Gunners might be going and why they needed me to come. If they just wanted to piss off my dad, surely killing me would be enough? Or did they know that my dad didn't like to be robbed and this was just the removal of property? I wanted to believe that my dad would care, that he loved me as much as I'd been brought up to understand… I questioned everything now. Knowing that he had once been a mercenary and lied about it, I felt like I couldn't trust his words. Was I wrong? Too many questions and not enough answers.

My travelling companions did not want to satisfy my curiosity – the last time I'd asked what was happening, I'd been shoved so hard in the back that I'd tripped over myself and landed face first in the dirt. I could tell from the throbbing sensation in my cheekbone that I had a blackeye to match my bruised leg. On top of that, I was covered in dust from radiation storms and the ties that bound my wrists behind my back were beginning to cut into the skin. My once beautiful, flowing hair was now a stubby mess of auburn on my head, falling just past my ears so that it tickled. I felt raw. I felt powerless.

Still, I walked and walked, with only seven Gunners for company. One of them, named Thatch, had been assigned to me, there to keep me in pace and make sure I wasn't killed whenever we were attacked by various monsters. The one thing my parents had been right about was the sheer number of deadly creatures that flew, crawled and leapt across the Commonwealth. So far, we'd been swarmed by angry Bloodbugs, harassed by rabid Molerats and chased by wild dogs. And that was just the animals! I'd heard about so-called 'Raiders' many times, as they were the Minutemen's biggest pest when it came to keeping our settlements in order. However, I'd never come face-to-face with any until my journey with the Gunners.

They didn't ask questions. The opened fire without so much as a second glance and decorated their camps with the corpses of their victims. It was fortunate for me that they were no match for my captors; from what I had learned, they wore leather instead of metal armour and used rudimentary weapons that they'd fashioned from salvaged materials. Mom had called them savages, explaining that they raided settlements, killing everyone inside and stealing their food and ammo. I knew that they were bad news. I was just glad that I had the Gunners on my side – for now.

As that thought left my mind, the man that had given me dad's holotape clasped his hands together and pointed ahead. His name was Kev and he seemed to be second in command to the skinny one, Runt, who nodded at him and gestured for the rest of us to stop. Thatch pulled at my arm painfully and I tried not to yelp. He didn't talk much, though when he did, it was usually to bark commands at me.

"Okay boys, we're here." Runt said. Just a few yards in front of us was a strange entrance way, the inside filled with rusted buses and cars. Gunner flags hung from the large walls, and an archway above us read 'Nuka-World Transit Centre'. "Kev, Billy – scout the perimeter, make sure no one else gets in. Todd, Karl, Jon – you guys are with me, we're going to make sure the inside is secure. Thatch, take the girl down to the train and get the power on."

Everyone set about their tasks and Thatch dragged me towards a subway entrance. I stumbled down the steps as my captor pulled me along, apparently in a big rush to get to the train. I tried to take everything in as we entered the double doors and were plunged into an unsettling darkness. It was chilly and damp, with little light to illuminate my surroundings, but I could just make out some metal barriers ahead of us, rusted and damaged from years of neglect. There were the remains of a ticket booth to my left, the window smashed in and a skeleton strewn across the counter – whoever it once was had been trying to crawl through the glass, presumably because the door that led out was locked and there was no time to fumble with keys during an atomic blast.

I shuddered as I thought back to the history lessons mom had given me; things never used to look this way, she had said. But the world had blown itself up and all that was left were decayed ruins, doomed to rot unless the Minutemen could fix everything again. I scoffed at my mother's naivety as Thatch and I pushed through the barriers and began to descend yet another flight of stairs. I had perhaps believed her before, when I hadn't witnessed the state of the Commonwealth for myself. Back when all I had was the island and little else. Seeing the reality of our situation made me realise just how fruitless her task was. Maybe she clung to the idea because it made her feel like she could one day go back to life before the bombs? Maybe if she had just been born into the chaos like me and dad, she wouldn't be as determined? It all seemed rather pointless to me now.

Thinking about them made my chest ache so I tried to focus on the here and now, starting with the huge train that sat on the tracks. The platform was littered with more skeletons, some smaller and more heart-breaking than others. Prams and toys decorated the area, the smell of death floating on the air. There were a few trash cans, though most had been knocked over, their contents sprawled across the tiles. I wondered if Scavengers had already picked this place clean long ago. It seemed like a great spot to pick up scrap.

Thatch grunted and shoved me onto the first carriage of the train where the driving controls were. I hit the floor with a painful thump, unable to catch myself due to my bondages. He scratched his head at the buttons and levers in front of me, sighed and pointed a grubby finger in my face.

"Stay here," He warned. "I'm going to find the power and get this thing switched on. If you move one muscle, I will kill you. You got that?"

I only nodded, afraid to speak. It was the most he'd ever said to me, but the threat was very real. I had no doubt that my life was expendable to these people. It baffled me that I was still alive.

As he disappeared from my view, I took the moment of peace to draw a deep breath. My bones ached, my feet were raw, but I was still here. If only I wasn't tied up, I would get this train going as soon as the power was achieved. I had to get away from these Gunners, I had to find my way to Diamond City. It was stupid to ever think that I could make the journey alone, however it was my only option. It was that, or go home. I couldn't go home. My dad was a monster and my mom was a liar. The world was full of treachery and death and my head was too scrambled to make sense of anything. I just knew that I couldn't go back to that island.

Did they miss me? Were they looking for me?

My thoughts were interrupted by the hum and glow of electricity, lights above me clicking on and leaving my temporarily blinded. I could feel energy beneath my body, the train coming to life, ready to go. I considered launching myself up to the lever and trying my luck at escaping, though I knew it wouldn't work. There was a crackling noise above me and I looked up to see some sort of speaker. A message began to play; it was a goofy, over-the-top character voice that made me believe it had been targeted at children.

 _Hiya, kids! Remember, Nuka-World is only open for a few more weeks in October! Come down and see me and Cappy one last time before buckling down for the winter. Don't forget to bring your empty bottle of Nuka-Cola to get 15 dollars off at the gate! So, hop aboard the Nuka-Express and come and see the whole Nuka family while you still can!_

What the hell did any of that mean? The words began to repeat as I pondered their meaning. I loved drinking Nuka-Cola, but I'd never heard of this Nuka-World before. Was it a pre-war thing? There were too many questions swimming around my head and I was so very tired from the trip. Nothing was making any sense!

Suddenly, a growling noise came from above followed by screams and stomping. Thatch, who had been making his way back to the carriage, stopped in his tracks and looked up to the ceiling. Debris fell, flakes of old concrete gracefully gliding to the floor. It had to be coming from above ground.

"What the fuck?" He queried before turning his attention back to me. "Wait here, I'm going to see what's going on. Don't fucking move."

Where would I go? I glared at him as he ran back up the stairs and out of the station. All I could do was sit here alone, trying to listen to the sounds above me. It was something big, something that could roar loud enough to be heard underground. The foundations were shaking, showing just how old and decrepit this subway was. I thought that it could cave in any moment, leaving me to suffocate in the rubble. After everything I'd been through, I couldn't die in a tomb, not like this. My wrists bled as I struggled with the rope, desperate to free myself. The panic was setting in, I couldn't bear it any longer!

Thatch jogged back down the steps, threw himself into the carriage and slammed the door shut.

"What's going on?" I squealed as he pushed the lever down. The train began to move forward slowly, then began to pick up speed. The station turned into a blur around me, and still that annoying advert looped round and round.

Thatch was shaking his head. "They're all dead. There was a motherfucking Super Mutant Behemoth up there, tearing them to shreds."

The Gunners were dead! I attempted to hide my grin, feeling the heat rise up in my cheeks. Still, Thatch was here, I was still being held captive and the train was moving at an incredible speed now to someplace far from the Commonwealth.

"So, why are we still going?"

"We stick to the plan." He spat. "We go to Nuka-World and wait for the other Gunners to get there."

I almost choked on my sob. "More of you?"

"Yeah, you think a tiny group like this were going to take over a whole park?"

I didn't reply, unsure of what a park was or how big it could be. Just when I had got my hopes up that I might be saved, it was taken away from me in a single sentence. Of course, there would be more Gunners when we arrived, it was only logical. My hell wasn't over just yet. Uncomfortable, I shifted to try and lean against the wall, only to put pressure on my wrists and wince. Thatch glanced at me and rolled his eyes, then took a knife from his pocket and cut my hands free. I stretched the stiffness out, rolling the joints and inspecting the gouges the binds had left.

"Why did you do that?" I asked quietly, looking at the floor. It was the most I'd been allowed to talk in days.

"You ain't going anywhere on this train," He shrugged. "And it wasn't my idea to tie you up. Figure you should enjoy a little luxury – who knows how long we're going to be on board?"

I must've drifted off during the transition because I was awoken by a jolt forward, slamming me into the floor head first. Thatch was on his feet, looking around nervously. It was dark except for a lamp outside of the train. I stood up slowly and squinted through the window to see that we were at another subway station, apparently a dead end. Sign posts all over indicated that we had made it to Nuka-World, but something didn't feel right. Tentatively, we stepped off of the train and onto the platform. Large wooden barriers blocked out the light from outside and herded us towards the one and only exit. The door was covered in blood splats, dirty handprints and one word was scratched eerily into the paintwork – GAUNTLET.

Thatch was just about to walk over when a crackle of static from the train speaker caught our attention.

 _I only got a minute, so you better listen good._ A gruff male voice addressed us. _The name's Gage, Porter Gage, and the truth is you've been set up. You're about to head into a death trap. But if you somehow make it through alive, I have an interesting offer for you. In the meantime, have fun and put on a good show. I'll be watching._

"What?" I whispered, eyes drifting to the labelled door. I tried to piece it together. What was a gauntlet, a competition? My sheltered childhood meant I only had limited knowledge, but I was sure I'd heard the same word used in that context in one of my books.

"That just pissed me off." Thatch growled. "There's not supposed to be anyone here, let alone some punk-ass setting up traps in the station. Come on."

"Wait," I hopped after him as he headed towards out only way out. "He said it was a death trap, shouldn't we just head back on the train?"

"Screw that!" He called over his shoulder. I followed him with small, hurried steps, not wanting to be left behind. As we approached the door, I noticed a camera pointed straight at us. That man, Porter Gage… he had said he would be watching. Thatch pushed the gauntlet door open with one huge heave and another voice, a much younger sounding male, began to speak from a nearby radio.

 _And they're off! Let's see if our latest prey can draw a little inspiration from our previous victims._

On the other side of the door, bodies piled up on the floor, only these ones were fresh and oh-so familiar. Each corpse wore a Gunner uniform. They seemed to have been shot multiple times. Blood soaked their clothing and the smell of rotting flesh made me gag. I glanced around, trying to find the source of the bullets, but there was too much junk in the way and walls jutted out in awkward angles, giving the impression that this had once been a series of rooms rather than one large space. There was rubble everywhere. Thatch was getting angry, his fists balled up by his sides. I guessed that these were his people, the one's that were going to help him take Nuka-World. Unfortunately, it seemed they weren't the only ones with that plan in mind. Before I could stop him, he launched forward into the room, without first getting his bearings. I called out to him, but it was too late.

From behind one of the damaged walls there was a whirring noise, and within seconds, Thatch was brutally punctured by hundreds of tiny bullets. He collapsed to the floor, face white and full of shock, all life drained from his body. Laughter came from the radio. What was this, a sick game? Trying not to give in to the tears in my eyes, I shakily took one more look around the room.

Turrets - five turrets, to be exact – were strategically placed around corners and behind mountains of trash. I was currently stood in their blind spot, but if I moved any closer, they would open fire immediately. Mom had told me about her experience with turrets before, both placing them and beating them. The key was to find the computer that they were linked to and shut them down, but I could guess that whoever had set this up wouldn't carelessly leave a terminal with all the passcodes lying around.

 _Jesus, who's torturing who? Pick up the pace, vic!_

I frowned at the radio announcer. I thought about going back to the train, but I didn't know how much use that would be. I would still be alone in a world that was trying to kill me, plus the Behemoth might still be around. That Gage man had told me that he had an offer for me once I got through the gauntlet; maybe that was the best option right now? He sounded scary but also like he actually wanted to help. There were no more Gunners, I had to do this myself.

 _Come on, vic, while we're young here._

"Okay!" I shouted back, realising what I had to do. I was going to pick up one of the guns from these dead bodies and I was going to shoot the hell out of these turrets before they killed me. Then, I was going to push through the rest of the gauntlet and find the fucker in charge. I was sick and tired of being played for a helpless fool. I had to take charge. I had to channel my inner MacCready.

I had to be dad.


	5. A Water Gun

**_Hey guys, sorry I've not written in a while, things have got on top of me recently. In any case, this chapter is super short just so that I can push on with the story. If anyone is still sticking with this, thank you._**

* * *

 **KATY**

Smoke billowed around, the black clouds threatening to choke me as I attempted to steady my breathing. I didn't know what had come over me back there, perhaps the adrenaline of fear and possibly even excitement, but I'd managed to destroy every last turret in the first room of the Gauntlet. Sure, my shooting wasn't amazing since I'd never picked up a gun in my life and I'd been taken aback – quite literally – by the recoil of the rifle I'd chosen. It had taken me a long while to get the knack for it, and the radio announcer had shared his exacerbation with the audience. I'd tried to see where the cameras were, the ones that were so obviously watching my every move, but I'd come up short. A small part of me thought that maybe I'd been wrong before, and I could go back to the train and get away. The larger, more rational side of me knew that if these people had gone to the trouble of creating a death trap like this one, there was no way they would allow me to leave.

So, here I was now, suddenly frozen on the spot. Blowing up those turrets had been pure luck, I knew that. Lucky shots. Who knew what was waiting for me in the next room? What would dad do now? He'd be wearing more than just a t-shirt and shorts, that's for sure. I dived towards one of the dead bodies on the ground and began to pull the uniform from it, all the while trying not to vomit. The smell alone was enough to make me gag, so I tried not to think about how terrible it was that I was desecrating a corpse. I needed more cover if I was going to survive this. That's all I could think about right now. I quickly threw the Gunner clothing over the top of my own and then strapped the metal armour to myself before checking the pockets for ammo. Is that something dad would do? I needed more ammo for my rifle. I nodded to myself and darted around the graveyard of a room, stuffing my hands into the pockets of every one of the dead, taking whatever I could find. Ammo, food, stimpaks.

I had no time to be ashamed of myself. I wanted to cry. I knew that I couldn't.

 _If this Vic takes any longer, we're all gonna die of boredom._

I rolled my eyes at the announcer and jogged towards the exit, praying that the next challenge wouldn't involve having to fire my weapon. I'm sure they'd all had a good laugh about my skills already.

The next area was like a maze of make-shift wooden walls with paths leading in all kinds of directions. I took a moment to look around, to make sure there were no more hidden turrets. I spotted a black dome on the ceiling and cocked my head to one side. Was that a camera? I gave a little wave and the announcer chuckled menacingly. Okay, that's how they were watching me. I didn't want them to see my anxiety, so I gave the best MacCready impression I could – a sideways smirk, extra cockiness. Mom had always said I shared dad's attitude. Maybe it was time to show it off. I turned my attention back to the maze and spotted wires strung across the walls, roughly a foot off the ground. Was that the master plan here – to trip me? I frowned and carefully walked towards the first one, trying to figure out the real trap. At the end of each string, there was a box. I took several steps back, crouched the ground and stretched my rifled towards the string. I was going to try and pull on it from afar, just to check.

As the butt of the rifle pushed on the string, I heard a clicking noise and flames rose from the sides, almost scorching my face. I rolled back and watched them burn for a few seconds before dying out. Okay, they were not just there to trip me up. I gulped and began to meander through the strings, sometimes having to gingerly step over one or two in order to progress. Several times I found myself at a dead end and had to start all over again, but I eventually made my way through and up a flight of rickety stairs. Once I'd climbed those, I found myself facing three doors. The announcer began to laugh.

 _It's decision time! All doors lead to death – some just slower than others._

I squeezed my rifle hard and scanned the doors, wishing for this to be over. Still, I couldn't get out of it now, so I ignored the shaking of my body and thought about the audience. I checked the ceiling until I saw the camera and shrugged at them, showing them that I couldn't care less. Gauntlet of doom? Ha! A walk in the park for this girl! Hopefully they couldn't see how terrified I really was. Then, as nonchalantly as possible, I grabbed the handle of the centre door and pulled it open.

#####

 **RAVEN**

This Vic was an absolute breath of fresh air. I sat in my stands with the rest of The Pack, watching the security cameras of the train station. It was difficult to see details on the grainy footage as it played on the big screen over the arena, especially as we had to watch through the bars, but this girl seemed completely competent. Okay, she'd had a rocky start in the turret room – had she never used a gun before? But after that she was a machine, figuring out the floor traps and sneaking her way through. The only flame thrower she'd set off had been on purpose! I attributed it to her small stature. Then, when she'd approached the camera and shrugged at Red-Eyes warning about the doors… I'd felt a flip in my stomach. I couldn't see her face but something about her made my heart pound. Unfortunately, she'd picked the middle door, so the grenades attached to the back went off a little closer to her than if she'd picked the first one.

Her tiny body was flung to the ground, crumpled in a heap like the previous Vics. The crowds around me burst into a flurry of cheers. They wanted her dead, obviously, that was the point of the Gauntlet. I glanced down at Gage, who was on the arena floor helping Colter into his power armour. He caught my worried expression and shook his head. Perhaps this wasn't the person we'd been waiting for.

I looked up at the screen again and felt a burst of butterflies throughout my body – the young Vic was picking herself up, checking her limbs. She seemed okay, maybe a bit bruised but otherwise fine. The armour she'd covered herself in seemed to have absorbed most of the damage, though I imagined her bones would be aching right now. She limped over to the next room, determined to finish what she'd started. Whilst everyone around me booed, I let a small smile creep over my face.

This could be our new Overboss.

After more triumphant scenes of bravery and sometimes even hilarity, our Vic finally made it to the locker room. She was one door away from Colter. Usually, this meant she would be one door away from imminent death, though I knew better. Gage was going to give her a pep talk and tell her to use a water gun to soak Colter's suit – the damn thing was attached to the arena grid, which was flooded with electricity. It meant that it was impossible to puncture and made him undefeatable. He was a cheater, through and through.

The alarm sounded for the opening of the doors and I held my breath. This was it. The moment of truth.

#####

 **KATY**

A water gun. A fucking water gun! I gripped onto the blaster with white knuckles, still unsure as to why this Gage guy was helping me out. He'd told me to use this to short circuit the other guy's armour and then I would be able to kill him fairly. Oh, yeah, I had to kill someone. Who knew that at the centre of the maze there would be a deathmatch? Alarms sounded all around as the door before me began to open and I stepped through onto a large space. There were these strange cars dotted around, and around the sides of the room were bars. On the other side of the bars I could make out seating, where hundreds of people were cheering and chanting. This was the audience I had been expecting.

In the centre of the room, a man stood in a full suit of sparking power armour that seemed to be hooked up to the ceiling. He cackled as I came towards him, and pointing the barrel of his gun towards me.

"Ready to die?" He sneered

I glanced at the bloodthirsty crowds around us and blinked back tears, instead doing my best to smile and roll my eyes. "That's some funny last words, you got there."

Before he could react, I squeezed the trigger of my water gun.

And the crowd went wild.


End file.
